All That's Left Of Yesterday
by AmethystB
Summary: {One-shot} There was one thing she could do to put this boy at ease…and that was to confess what she had been too afraid to when she was living...


**Amethyst Blizzard: **Arg, I need sleep…well, hi to those who are reading this, and if you are reading this, then you are crazy beyond my level of comprehension. Not really, cause nothing in this world could be crazier than me…not even my erratic cat…

**Floramon: **Yeesh, I don't know how many times I've had to deal with you _and _the cat, but I'm crazier!

**A/N: **Yeah sure…anywho, another one-shot coming your way peoples. Ok, this will be a little different cause I'm trying out the whole 'death' theme. A little warning: kinda sad and confusing, so if you don't want your brain to be twisted even more than it already is, step out now please – exit's that way…uh wait, _that_ way…

Hmm, this fic's officially disclaimed. 'nuff said.

* * *

**All That's Left Of Yesterday  
**

The Spirit segued back into the darkness…the darkness that which was once her world. The chaotic boundaries of this world expanded with each crime, with each lie, and with each unfair loss. Looking back down on a vague scene, the Spirit drifted fleetingly into each mind she encountered, and was not surprised to feel strong emotions of pain and grief, and of a lost love that will never be forgotten, even when memories of the Spirit would fade into the dark void of the mind. The serene minds she drifted into were but very vague, and she could hardly remember their significance…until she entered the mind of one so dearly cherished.

The boy's mind was littered with what the Spirit called 'unwanted thought'; the garb that clothed the vengeful mind. The Spirit did not want the boy to feel so angry and bitter; yet at the same time he was grieving with such passion and helplessness that the Spirit felt compelled to withdraw from the mind. Though she knew she must find the answer to why this boy was grieving so much, and the only way she could do this was by thrusting herself deeper into the boy's mind. A bell rang from not so far away and the Spirit waited respectively before gently pressing her mind into the boy's. The bells began playing a haunting tune that filled the air with a true sadness just as the Spirit found these hidden emotions within the boy.

* * *

**Playground school bell rings again  
Rain clouds come to play again  
Has no one told you she's not breathing?  
Hello, I'm your mind giving you  
Someone to talk to  
Hello…**

* * *

The Spirit withdrew reluctantly, unable to withhold the sudden rush of hidden emotion within the boy. Never before had she experienced such passion within someone, not even within the members of her own family. But this boy was different; he held such emotions within, but never let them show on the outside. There were no tears evident on his smooth cheeks that suggested he had been crying; only the remnants of a love broken, but certainly not forgotten. The boy didn't even flinch when the silky black coffin was lowered carefully into the gaping hole in the perfectly arranged ground. In so many ways this reflected how the boy felt; a love had been concealed within him, and now that it was too late, his hopes were slowly declining into a deep, black, empty void. 

The Spirit shivered and focused away from the boy, and instead came to rest on the other people gathered. A weeping mother, whose daughter had been selfishly stolen from her, forever. "I'm still here, Mother," the Spirit whispered.

There was an elderly woman, though she was not as old as one would an expect a grandmother to be. She too was weeping, though not as strongly as the other woman. This woman understood death and knew it to be a beginning and not an end. She comforted the other supportively and bowed deeply as the coffin hit the bottom of its hollow depression.

A girl cried out in disbelief, a painful ache of the heart that could not be compressed any longer than it had already been. Tears streamed down the young brunette's face with ease; she had let them go now, just as she would let the Spirit go eventually. A boy of about her age kept his tears inside, not showing them to the girl he was so strongly comforting, protecting. They were both wearing black, but the Spirit didn't want that; she wanted both children to be living happily, wearing whatever they wanted to wear. And in any case, the Spirit had always hated black.

Two boys standing to the side of the two brunettes just stared into the deep, dark depression that was now complete with the shiny, wooden coffin inside of it. Each boy held a bouquet of crimson roses that were bound tightly together by a velvety violet cloth. Simultaneously, they carefully threw the flowers into the depression and watched them fall until they lay profoundly on top of the black casket.

Aloof and without a companion, another boy stood hovering over the hole that resembled a small rectangle. This boy seemed somewhat lost and afraid, though he knew perfectly well where he was and what had happened to place him there. An accident, they called it. Except there was no accident, that was just a reasonable excuse for the detectives on the case to place a cause of death. The speeding car hadn't even slowed down when it had connected with her; it was no accident. Much like the other alone boy, this blue-haired one thought of revenge, though he scolded himself for it because he knew it was not the answer. He had been taught that, among many things, death was never resolved by anything humane.

His grey eyes reflected the serene, if somewhat stony, atmosphere. They flickered to where three young children were sniffling uncontrollably and holding each other's hands. His sister, and her new best friends. They were innocent, untouched by the world, but now that all seemed lost. They were scarred forever.

"They shouldn't be; I'm finally at peace now," the Spirit descended her voice into the boy's mind and suddenly a revelation was made. He found renewed hope and after dropping a bouquet of crisp, golden roses and casting a final lingering look into the depression in the ground, he turned on his heel and walked over to the children.

There was a man there, and he too was aloof and unacquainted with most of the people gathered. He had really only known the Spirit and her mother, no one else. His striking auburn hair resembled that of the Spirit's and his tall status held him above all those gathered. He held a bunch of pure white roses, as white as snow. He intended to drop them into the deep hole in the ground, though he had to ask something first. The Spirit heard his cry, his plea.

"Come back to me, Rika."

The roses were dropped and descended quickly, much like the Spirit's reply.

"I am here, Father."

* * *

**If I smile and don't believe  
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream**

* * *

But the Spirit knew it was not a dream, far from it. She had stopped dreaming now and was living a life anew, unburdened by the restraints of this chaotic world. The only thing she held onto now was the people she had left behind, and even they were to be unchained eventually. 

The Spirit lingered beside the boy's mind, the boy who had so viciously thought of vengeance. Ryo Akiyama; she still remembered his name. His thoughts leaked from his mind to hers and she was immediately upset once more. His love was hurting her, even more than it had when she had been living. Upon entering his mind at a lightly conscious level, the Spirit caught his fleeting thought: "Why?"

Why indeed? Why did most things happen when they were so unfair to just people? That was a question the Spirit could not answer.

A world of pain brimmed on the outside of the boy's own spirit, as well as deep inside of him. So much pain that it was almost unbearable, but the Spirit knew she had a purpose and could not leave the boy's mind now when she had come so far already. She pressed deeper and drowned in the boy's thoughts. He had loved her, much more than needed, and he couldn't let go of her. Not now. But he had to. Nothing would bring the Spirit back now, not after she had left her host body.

* * *

**Don't try to fix me  
I'm not broken**

* * *

The Spirit needed no explanation as to why this boy loved her so much; it was as simple as he just did. He hurt because of her of death, but what was even more uncomforting was that he was numb. No tears smeared his tanned cheeks; they didn't even exist within the boy's eyelids. However, they existed deep within, where no human could ever reach and disturb them. The immortal tears of one so strong stung the Spirit with a painful recognition that reflected what she herself had been like.

* * *

**Hello I'm the lie  
Living for you so you can hide  
Don't cry**

* * *

For hadn't the Spirit herself grown a protective shell around her soft insides to hide from what she was really feeling? This boy was doing the exact same thing; hiding from the outside so as to protect himself. And his feelings. The Spirit didn't want this. She had lived through the pain of hiding and compressing the feelings that desperately needed to rise for air, and she didn't want this boy to live his life without knowing what the Spirit had found; freedom.

Whispering gently into his mind, the Spirit sent comforting thoughts to calm the raging emotions within the boy below her. Then she sent images of herself and the boy smiling together, caring for each other. But the boy rejected them viciously. He was trying not to think of the happy times the two of them had shared because he knew they would never be again. The Spirit thought fast.

* * *

**Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping  
Hello I'm still here**

* * *

There was one thing she could do to put this boy at ease…and that was to confess what she had been too afraid to when she was living.

* * *

**All that's left of yesterday**

* * *

"_I love you."_

Then the boy seemed to relax entirely, his muscles easing with the knowledge of love. He bent over the depression, leaning closely to the coffin. Her coffin. He placed a bouquet of eternal white roses…eternal love…everlasting.


End file.
